Opinion
Column

The snake pit of snap elections

Only a few short weeks ago, the British Prime Minister had it all – a majority government in Parliament, favourable poll numbers and a direct line from 10 Downing Street straight to MI7, just in case she needed to call 007, lest a feline-loving madman bent on destroying the world emerged from his underwater lair.

Yup, May was on top of the (British) world, having access to the British PM's fleet of Jaguars, chatting regularly with the Queen (who seems to be a lovely person) and getting to watch reruns of Coronation Street and EastEnders on a giant television screen at the PM's official country house of Chequers.

She certainly didn't have to concern herself with that fuddy-duddy Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn or pretend to like the Lib Dems, the Scottish National Party or any of the other rabble that hung out in Parliament.

Nope, she had a majority government and several years to spare before another election.

And then it all came crashing down around her.

For whatever reason, May decided that she needed to hold a snap election. And suddenly, her once-charmed life turned into ashes in a matter of weeks.

In the same way that I simply do not understand why some people put giant monster tires on their vehicles or why people willingly spend hours commuting everyday and spend gazillions of dollars for a shanty simply to live in Toronto, I truly and honestly have no idea why politicians call snap elections.

Almost every time someone in our Westminster system of government calls a snap election, they get a pie (or worse) thrown in their face, figuratively speaking.

If only Theresa May or one of her staff had picked up the conker (or whatever slang word those Brits use for telephone) and rang up a Canadian politician (or at least someone with a basic knowledge of Canadian political history) she might still be enjoying her former life of luxury.

Why? Because as countless Canadian politicians have learned, there is really no upside to calling a snap election.

Close your eyes, if you will, and think back to Ontario in the year 1990. Times were different then.

Mobile phones were the size of watermelons. People regularly rocked out to the sounds of Wilson Phillips' Hold On and Milli Vanilli's Girl You Know It's True. And the province of Ontario had a really, really popular provincial premier named David Peterson.

Peterson wore his signature red ties pretty much everywhere, he was gregarious, funny and charming, his government had 95 out of 130 seats in the legislature after the 1987 election and his party had introduced tons of pretty forward-thinking and popular legislation during their three years in office. Such was Peterson's standing that there were many rumours of him becoming federal Liberal leader and eventually becoming the Prime Minister of Canada.

And then, with his popularity sitting at around 50 per cent, some wiseacre in the Premier's office convinced him to call a snap election during the third year of the Liberals' four-year term. And Ontarians, angry and annoyed by the snap election call, decided to enact their revenge on Peterson by electing Bob Flipping Rae as their Premier.

Hilarity did not ensue.

Indeed, throughout Canadian history, people who have forced snap elections have generally come out on the receiving ends of some of the worst political spankings in history.

Whether it was the Peterson Liberals or Wilfred Laurier calling a snap election on reciprocity in 1911, only three years after the previous election in 1908 (Laurier got thumped by Robert Borden) or the late Jim Prentice trying to 'get a strong mandate' (non-political translation: naked power grab) three years in to the Conservatives' four-year term in Alberta in 2015 (Prentice and the Tories lost to Rachel Notley's NDP), voters have historically punished politicians who call elections for no reason other than to consolidate their already-massive power.

The only time in recent memory that a snap election call actually worked took place in 2000 when Canada's political wizard of a Prime Minister, Jean Chretien, called one and proceeded to bulldoze his opponents into the ground.

(Importantly, though, the then-greenhorn Leader of the Opposition, Stockwell Day, had actually asked Chretien publicly to call an election, to which Chretien happily obliged, so it didn't appear to be the naked power grab that it actually was. Which is smart.)

But outside of that one aberration, snap elections have typically resulted in humiliation and tears for those governments who have called them. Why political aides, politicians and pollsters think they will work – in the face of, you know, history and evidence – is completely beyond me.

So saddle up to your local pub, grab a pint and raise your glass in sympathy for poor Theresa May.

Because of her desire to call a snap election, instead of enjoying the glamour and excitement of being in charge of a solid majority government until 2017, she will now be spending the next few years of her life either a) getting booted out of office, b) constantly getting stabbed in the back by her own angry party members or c) kissing the behinds of members of other political parties in a desperate attempt to simply stay in power.

Not exactly a future to look forward to, then. Word to the wise for any aspiring politicians out there: Just say no to snap elections – they're just not worth it.